Wednesday, 14 May 2008

Sound Advice

Since I've been going on about the Sound Mirrors on the Denge Marsh in Kent, I thought I'd better put them up for scrutiny. The most memorable is the 30 foot diameter mirror, still with its microphone stand. Microphone? Is this a Hollywood Bowl-style amphitheatre, waiting for Sinatra to come on and croon across the shingle flatlands? No, this is an acoustic bowl constructed in concrete in the late 1920s in a series of experiments to find a away of foretelling the arrival of aircraft approaching across the English Channel. Next to this mirror is a 20 foot version, like a child next to its mother, and a colossal 200 foot wall which only has one other like it, and that's in Malta. Microphones at the acoustical centres were attached by leads to headphoned boffins hiding in concrete bunkers underneath. They are such a superb example of 'Dead Tech', a brief reaching out into the unknown for the defence of the realm. A narrow gauge railway was built to bring the materials across the shingle, and one can easily imagine top brass arriving for a demonstration in an Avro Andover at Lydd Airport next door. To a degree they worked, except they also picked-up shipping passing by the Ness and were quickly superceded by radar in 1932. But somehow I get the feeling they're still listening to everything going on, and not just the mewing of birds on the gravel pits that now surround them..

They're well protected on a little island Thud, by a swing bridge that's kept in the open position until there's an open day, as it were. There's a mirror on a hill at the back of Hythe that's been badly vandalised, but if you're ever on the coastal path between Folkestone and Dover there's a supreme twenty-footer on the cliff edge.

I do recall great success in the field of parabolic microphones - in my youth a modified dustbin lid and microphone where put to good use recording dinner party conversations and later goings on from my housemaster's garden at school in the hope of obtaining blackmail material.

Oh Diplo that's marvellous. Which reminds me- I'm now short of only 'Pour it on Porridge'in the large size of the limited edition Lyles Golden Syrup cans. So if you see it anyone perhaps you would be kind enough to resist using it as one half of the classic acoustic listening device utilising another tin and a length of string.

I seem to recall that in York somewhere, there is a mediaeval meeting chamber where the seats have parabolic backs, enabling the occupants to converse across the chamber without having to shout. Which raises the idea that someone could have whispered "I can see you!" into the mirrors at Denge, and warned off a whole German fleet!

Some medieval churches have 'acoustic jars' that are designed, apparently, to amplify the singing of the choir or the voice of the priest. 'Just going out for an acoustic jar,' as the bishop said to the actress.

And then of course there's the Whispering Gallery around the base of the dome of St.Paul's Cathedral. Position your girlfriend/boyfriend/lover/milkman directly opposite yourself and whisper against the wall. Your companion will hear you quite clearly, providing you are alone and it's quiet, which of course is virtually impossible.

There's a whisper that these are a Turner Prize entry, has it been picked up in London yet? Maybe they qualify under the 'found objects' category. Whatever, aren't they wonderful. They don't make concrete like that anymore, etc, etc, etc.

civil defence, war, agriculture - they all leave their reduntant kit lying around, thankfully, and we are able to extend the enjoyment of such gems. I feel sure that the concentration of USAAF bases aorund East Anglia was designed to provide years of entertainment for young "archeologists" keen on detonating 30mm cannon rounds with a hammer and nail gripped in dad's vice in the garden shed. I'm particularly fond of the late cold war stuff, the ICBM site at Draughton is a good one.

I have a yellow Civil Defence Armband, which when we're under threat from Gordon or Anne Robinson I will slide on and run up and down my village street shouting "Take Cover!", at the same time blowing my Acme Thunderer Whistle.

I was once chased up the road by an angry policeman in Lisbon, as he drew his automatic I was able to put on a fair turn of speed, the best bit was listening to his gasping whistle-blowing as he ran faster than he looked like he ought to with the shiny instrument clenched between his teeth. I had the advantage of being behind the wheel of a Renault 4 at the time and he was on foot. Unfortunately he caught up with me as I took a turn into 4 lanes of oncoming traffic - " who ? me? one way stree? ENGLISH ! no comprende - what are the rubber gloves for ? why has your friend got a camera ?".......

Jon. I've just realised you've got lobster claws for hands. I'm so sorry. Are you related to Picasso who in one photo of him appears to have bread rolls for fingers?

My noticing of your disability coincides with my recently purchasing John Nash's Shell poster for Dorset, which also features a large lobster. Maybe it's all a precursor to an alien crustacean invasion. Crab Wars.

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About Me

I am a designer, writer and photographer who spends all his time looking at England, particularly buildings and the countryside. But I have a leaning towards the slightly odd and neglected, the unsung elements that make England such an interesting place to live in. I am the author and photographer of over 25 books, in particular Unmitigated England (Adelphi 2006), More from Unmitigated England (Adelphi 2007), Cross Country (Wiley 2011), The Cigarette Papers (Frances Lincoln 2012), Preposterous Erections (Frances Lincoln 2012) and English Allsorts (Adelphi 2015)

Preposterous Erections

The Cigarette Papers

Cross Country

"Until the happy advent of Peter Ashley's Cross Country it has, ironically, been foreigners who have been best at celebrating Englishness". Christina Hardyment / The Independent

More from Unmitigated England

"Give this book to someone you know- if not everyone you know." Simon Heffer, Country Life. "When it comes to spotting the small but telling details of Englishness, Peter Ashley has no equal." Michael Prodger, Sunday Telegraph